You Did It
by purplecitrusella
Summary: You did it. It's all your fault. You're the reason he's gone. If only you hadn't done what you did. Warning: Somewhat dark. Oneshot. Rated T just in case.


You did it.

It's all your fault.

You're the reason he's gone.

If only you hadn't done what you did.

Maybe he'd still be here.

Maybe you wouldn't be where you are.

In a room.

With a woman.

She's a therapist.

She asks you what happened.

Why did you do this?

The impossible question.

She asks you to tell her.

She says that if you can't remember, it's okay.

But you remember.

You remember well.

Even though you were really little

You remember it so vividly.

* * *

You asked if you could go play with Isabella, and he said yes.

When Candace asked to go to Jeremy's, you asked if you and Isabella could go.

A yes, again.

You, Isabella, and Candace were at Jeremy's.

You had a bright idea.

To play in the garden.

With Isabella.

You played in the garden for hours.

With Isabella.

Leapfrog.

Hide-and-seek.

Tag.

All in the parsnips.

Finally you, Candace, and Isabella were home.

Candace had started to cough in the car.

But nobody thought anything was wrong.

Stupid us.

Stupid you.

You are a stupid nobody.

You walked into the house.

You ran to her and hugged her.

She hugged you back.

You ran to him.

You climbed on his lap.

He hugged you.

It was the last time you would ever feel this way.

Normal.

You tried to hug him.

But something was wrong.

You saw.

Everybody saw.

Everybody knew.

Her.

And her parents.

They were visiting.

They all ran around.

Except for you.

And him.

And Candace.

She was breathing funny.

You wanted to get up.

To say something.

But you couldn't.

It was like you were frozen.

Or paralyzed.

You just sat there.

Morose.

Comatose.

They ran back in.

They couldn't find it.

What he needed.

Everyone will have to pile in the car.

And go.

To the hospital.

She herds everyone toward the car.

You don't move.

So even though he's in trouble,

He carries you to the car.

One last time.

In the car, everyone realizes.

Candace.

She's wheezing.

She must've inherited it from him, they say.

We're there.

They get out.

You don't move.

She unbuckles you and carries you in.

You're scared.

That's understandable.

They both go back.

Hours pass.

Or maybe only minutes.

The brain loses track of time when it's in that kind of state.

A doctor comes out.

Candace is in room 230.

But what about him?

The doctor speaks again.

They tried their hardest.

They really did.

But he didn't make it.

He was gone.

She was sitting beside you.

She broke down.

Crying.

Everyone decided they would wait until Candace had recovered a bit.

To tell her.

When she found out,

She was hysterical.

No one stopped her.

Cry it out, they said.

But you didn't cry.

Not once.

But everyone coddled you,

Like you were worse than Candace.

But you weren't.

Or were you?

You remember the funeral, too.

Right down to the eulogy.

You watched them lower him into the ground.

And you still didn't cry.

You only said goodbye.

And that was it.

* * *

The therapist writes something down.

And then she says that's not what she meant.

By "why did you do this?"

You don't know what else she could be talking about.

She clarifies.

You understand.

And you answer the question.

* * *

You don't have to act like this, Candace says.

It wasn't the end of the world, she continues.

She says that she got over it.

She's lying.

Her nose always scrunches.

When she lies.

Really, you don't have to feel this way, she says.

Why don't you have the right to be this upset

When your sister hasn't even gotten over it?

And you know that she's never experienced this feeling.

This feeling of immense guilt.

And inadequacy.

Because you're the one who did it.

Not her.

She will never live through this pain.

You're not sure if you can.

* * *

You pause there.

She writes something down and starts to speak.

You tell her you're not done.

And she lets you continue.

* * *

You've written notes.

And made videos.

And tried to make the pain go away in other ways.

Ways that your mother would hate to know

That you're doing.

Although it would probably explain

Where all her... uhh... shower supplies are going.

You've made more videos.

And written more notes.

And tried to prepare yourself.

And Ferb knows.

Not about the entire thing, though.

He just knows about what you've been doing

With Mom's Schicks.

Nobody knows

About what you're going to do next.

A couple weeks pass.

It's almost the day

That you planned to do this.

But today's different.

They found the notes.

And videos.

Mom knows.

So does Candace.

And Ferb.

Even Isabella knows.

They're all saying the same thing.

You don't have to do this.

You look at Ferb.

His eyes are saying the same thing.

Don't do this. Please.

What do you care?

What does he care?

What does anybody care?

They all know you're the one.

Who did it.

Why should they care about you

When you're the one

That made the one they loved

Go away?

You don't care what they say.

You've felt like this long enough.

You needed to do this.

And it almost worked.

Until Ferb came in.

And he saw what you had done.

He ran to get someone.

No one thought you'd actually do it.

Ferb was in total shock.

That's the reason he hasn't talked much.

Since then.

He was stunned.

So were you.

* * *

And that's why you're here.

Talking to this lady.

Telling her everything you've been through.

Because you couldn't handle it.

You couldn't live with it anymore.

You remember it so vividly

Even though you were really little.

Maybe you wouldn't be where you are.

Maybe he'd still be here.

If only you hadn't done what you did.

You're the reason he's gone.

It's all your fault.

You did it.

* * *

_**A/N: If you couldn't tell who it was speaking, it was Phineas. And I think every time I used the word "her," other than situations where Phineas was alone with Candace, the her referred to Mom. And if you couldn't tell, "him" was Phineas' biological dad. I've never written a story like this (I've never written a Phineas and Ferb story, either), so I'd be interested in your input (in other words, please review). Thanks for reading.**_


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